


shakespeare vs a frappuccino

by neville



Series: thorbruce shorts [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, High School, M/M, Pre-Slash, Starbucks, Studying, Thor is a good friend, Tony Stark Is Not Helping, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bruce banner hates english, okay he's sort of helping but. by sending thor, the frappuccino is practically its own character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neville/pseuds/neville
Summary: High school AU. Bruce is having an essay-related meltdown; Thor is sent to help.





	shakespeare vs a frappuccino

**Author's Note:**

> so apparently fluff is how i deal with my endgame feels. this is my first mcu fic! i love thor, and bruce banner, and starbucks, and am doing exams and panicking about english, so decided to combine them all in one. hope you enjoy!

Despite all of his A grades and his steadily high GPA, Bruce Banner has a meltdown at least once a month that he’s going to fail and drop out of high school and never make it to college. Sometimes he has up to three in a singular month, depending on how many coursework essays he’s juggling, and no matter how many he’s been through, the absolute dread of the thought of failure never quite gets any better.

Tony can’t be bothered with these meltdowns, of course. Tony Stark would say that  _ he _ doesn’t have meltdowns, which Bruce knows isn’t true at all, but what he really doesn’t have is time for Bruce’s melodramatics. Tony has known Bruce since kindergarten, and Bruce hasn’t gotten any less than a B+ through the whole of school (and the B+ was his phys ed grade, so Tony’s not even sure that  _ counts _ , but Bruce can’t forget it), and Tony’s pretty sure that this would be unlikely to change even if Bruce took a test while high on any cocktail of illegal narcotics. He wants to try this, but he’s never getting  _ that _ idea past Bruce. 

So, of course, every time Bruce sends the inevitable string of panicked texts, Tony has to refer him elsewhere, for he, Anthony Stark, has absolutely no sympathy for this bullshit whatsoever. Neither does Clint, as it turns out; Nat’s patience breaks within about ten minutes of Bruce near-wailing, and while Steve is somehow very good at talking Bruce down, Steve is never around because of all his stupid sports clubs. Tony curses them. Steve always misses bubble tea, too. 

This leaves the one person Tony has never even  _ thought _ of trying to send to calm Bruce down, mostly because he half-suspects he’d just wind Bruce up. But he’s desperate, and Bruce has sent about thirty messages in the past minute screaming about how he’s destined to a life of failure and regrets, and Tony isn’t dealing with this today. 

So he messages Thor.

  
  


Of all the people Bruce had expected to be sent to deal with his crisis, Thor definitely didn’t top his list; but he isn’t going to complain, as there’s something vaguely angelic about the sight of his friend striding towards him, stray hairs bouncing at the sides of his face, the sunlight peering in through the windows haloing around him. Better still, Thor is holding in his hands a Starbucks haul, and Bruce almost knocks the table over in his rush to stand up.

“Tony informed me that you were having a crisis,” Thor says, “so I brought you some caffeine to help. And myself.”

“Thor, you’re a lifesaver,” Bruce sighs contentedly, taking his frappuccino and gently hugging his friend. Thor beams, rather surprised by this outpouring of affection, and hooks an arm around Bruce. 

“I highly doubt that your life was actually in danger.” 

“Yeah, but it felt like it was.” 

“I see. Well, you can stop worrying now, since I have arrived!” Thor beams, and takes a seat opposite Bruce, tugging over his notes and squinting at the messy tangle of letters that makes up Bruce’s handwriting. Bruce sits back down, leaning against the back of his chair, running a hand through his hair, and taking an experimental sip of his frappuccino; he’s usually not really a fan of cold drinks like this, but it’s chocolate, and it’s - okay, he isn’t going to go as far as  _ delicious _ , but it’s  _ nice _ . Sweet. Tastes like stress relief. “I thought someone as smart as you would find Shakespeare easy, Bruce.” 

“I’m not so good at the arts,” he says. “Science - yeah, and history is just facts and figures so that’s okay, but literature is all just  _ interpretation _ … I don’t really get it, you know? I don’t know how to work out what the  _ theme _ is, or what ‘literary devices’ demonstrates the  _ theme _ that I can’t find.” Bruce can feel himself re-entering panic stations, and takes another gulp of chocolatey goodness. “Hey, Thor, what flavour is this?” 

“Double chocolate chip. Is it okay? We can swap.” Thor proffers his strawberries and cream, but Bruce waves a hand.

“No, no. It’s just really nice. Thanks.” 

“You’re very welcome. Tony said you were suffering deeply and so I wanted to help, and frappuccinos always help me. Or Starbucks in general. I have gold membership there.” Thor leafs through Bruce’s notebook, reading through his notes. “I think I understand this. What’s your essay on? We can plan it together.”

Bruce hadn’t expected, upon seeing the sight of his tall and slightly oblivious friend wandering down the corridor, for him to actually be able to offer practical support; but Thor is good at this, good at English, breaks down every theme into manageable chunks and shows Bruce where it works into the theme, the effects it has on the story. It’s easier with Thor there, guiding Bruce through. To be perfectly honest, he’s just great at English lit; Bruce is almost jealous of how naturally it comes to him.

“There,” Thor says proudly when Bruce puts down the last bullet point of his plan. “You’re halfway there already and you haven’t even had an aneurysm.” 

“That’s a first,” Bruce laughs, and stills for a moment when Thor reaches forward and ruffles his hair; but there’s something about Thor’s easy smile that relaxes him, Thor’s calmness in the face of a friend slowly losing his sanity and/or will to live. How come Thor is so good at this? He’s always having a bi-weekly rant over his own test scores, but… here, he’s just taking it slow. It’s nice. Bruce likes Thor. 

“Shall we go for another coffee?” Thor asks, looking cheerful and gesticulating with his strawberries and cream. Bruce considers this, considers the essay due date and then removes it from current consideration because he’s about sick to death of this essay and is going to refuse to think about it until the next day, at least.

“You know what,” says Bruce, “that sounds like a good idea.” 

He collects his things and tucks all his work away into his bag, falling into stride with Thor as they leave the school building. Bruce is tired of the sight of it, the stains on the walls and the sound of people wandering through the corridors, gossiping about things that he isn’t sure matter now or will ever. He needs a break. 

As they walk, he messages Tony. 

Tony sends back a shocked emoji. 

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: the google doc for this fic is titled "bruce banner loves chocolatey chip frappuccinos" <3


End file.
